Morning journal and courier., 1887-12-05
VERDI.
A Peep Into the Composers villa OF
Sanfs ARaHa

VERDIs
A Peep Into the Composer villa OF
SAINT Agata.
The italian writer, Giuseppe Glacosa, re-
lates in the following terms visit he made
lately to Verdi at SAINT Agats:
have just returned from the villa of SAINT
Agata, near Busseto, where Giuseppe Verdi
generally passes i've or six months of the
year in industrious country leisure. The
eommodious and quiet villa, hidden in a
large group of gigantic trees, all planted by
the master, gives signs of the long custom of
the hospisable care which suggests and salts
fes the most fsstidious desires without the
least appearance of exertion or etiquette.
As soon as one enters the house one is assiln-
Hated to it, and it seems to adopt some of
ones habits and ways and to impart some of
its own. At 6rsS sight you say, "That is
Just what like, " and in half an hour you
feel as if you had lived there for six months.
The house was planned by its master. The
furniture is rich without excess or restric-
tion-rich with that kind of decent and
quiet luxury which does not care for show.
There are pictures by MoIelli and Miehetti,
ancient prints, inlaid and carved furniture
two three centuries old, fine library, rare
editions, curious albums, collections of arts
tic souvenirs, all arranged Sd as to catch
your eye without offending it. The master
Is like the house-hospitable without fuss or
hustle. The guests natural fear of intru-
At the very beginning you say to YOURSELF
"What blessing! My host pursues his own
life and does not trouble himself about my
affairs" But on the second or third day,
when you find that he always appears at the
very moment you want to dnd him; that
through the open doors you can see him at
any hour occupied in pursuits which it is not
indiscreet to interrupt, and that when you
enter the room next to his, he salutes you in
friendly manner, you are persuaded that he
is always exercising a valiant and considerate
courtesy, conscious of your reserve. and de-
termined to spare you any doubt of being
Unfortunate to him. Verdi has often been
called a rough and disdainful man, but who
ever considers his works must acknowledge
he is one of the men who have lost least
time; that too accommodating manner is
the cause of incaleulable loss of time, and
that, in the Judgment of those who dispense
the patents of courtesy and afability, one
can never be courteous and aHable enough.
Anyone who arrives at the degree of celebri
ty won by Verdi in his youth becomes the
target of q hundred Thousand petitioners,
starsrs, vain or fanatic men, philanthropists,
traders, uncomprehended geniuses, jealous
counselIors, suggestors of new inventions or
new artistic methods, who each ask for only
ten minutes time, but altogether occupy ten
hours of the precious day in order to con-
vince them that he has no time to lose, the
poor man would employ as much time to
the maestro was thinking of any new work.
The good and distinguished lady, who is
really the guardian angel of her husband, re-
piled: ''For mercy's sake let him rest; don't
you think he ras worked enough9" And the
maestro, although 1 dared not interrogate
him, repeated exactly the same thing, which,
however, would not prevent him from set
ting to work tomorrow with youthful ardor.
To hear him converse and see him walk you
would take Verdi to be in the prime of life.
remember that at Milan, on the evening of
''Othello," while the crowd applauded below
his window, he said to me, fixing his deep
and shining eyes on my face: 'FIf were
again tomorrow" 1 am convinced that,
under the stimulus of some new idea, he
would actually grow younger by forty years.
The warm passion, the masculine anguish
that palpitates in every note of "Othello"
proves it. A really old man does not love
and suffer so. This immense dramatic force
cannot be only the fruit of knowledge. To /
pray like Desdemons, to weep and despair
and go mad like Othello, the fire of the
composers soul must be covered with very
few ashes, and ready to burst into flame.
Two days after the first performance of
sOthello" dined with the maestro and his
wife. Of course we spoke of the opera and
the great fatigue it must have carsed. All
at once the maestro, who while we were talk
ing had gradually become thoughtful, ex-
claimed: Chow sad it is to have finished it,
How solitary feel. Till now, IS soon as I
woke, took up all the love, the rage, the
jealousy, the deceit of my personages. I
said to myself, To-day I must write that
scene;' and if it did not come to my mind I
armed myself for struggle, certain of vic
tory, and then when my task YVES finished
there remained the rehearsals, the doubts,
the study to clearly explain my thought to
the actors, to make them act in my way; the
IL. -1-Ls.
reality suggested to me, aad retuI led home
still agitated by the splendid theatrical life,
glad when my intentions were realized, medi-
tating on what proposed to i've at on the
morrow, SO that felt no fatigue, and was
not conscious of my age. But now? Now
that 'Othello' belongs to the public it ceases
to be mine, it separates itself rom me en-
tireIy, and the place it held within me was
go large that | feel an enormous vacancy,
and think that / can never again fill it up"
This encouragement and regret are the signs
of the vital power that still exists in Verdi's
genius, into1erant of repose. Do not let us
hurry it nor stimulate it. If repose is good
for him let it come full and joyous, but we
will comfort ourselves with the thought that
Verdis name is not only one of the glories,
but still one of the hopes of Italian art. The
maestro never commences a conversation on
art, but he does not avoid it. The other day
he spoke of Italian music. He believes that
our youths ought to return to the love and
study of song, which is our peculiar priv
lege. And he did not say this in aversion of
German music, of which he is warm ad-
mirer. but because he believes that song is
natural to us by reason OF our soil and eli
mate. Once, long time ago, German mu-
stefan said to him, talking of general tenden-
cies: ''You Italians don't know how to com
pose a symphony" "You Germans don't
know how to compose a song" retorted Yer
di. And ne explained the evident reasons of
the excellence of the Germans in instrument
tai music and of the Italians in song. The
long winters, the deep SHOWS, the fogs, the |
sQualid and desolate winter landscapes, cause
people in Germany to shut themselves up in
warm rooms and amuse the slow hours with ]
quartets and quintets. But who in Naples l
can endure to remain within the house for
even half day? And when one goes into
the open air, the splendid sky, the glorious
sunshine and the beautiful earth force your
lips to utter song, which IS the natural ex-
preston of a lively and spontaneous move
ment of the soul.